The Watsons can never resist messing with the Sherlocks. Never.
(Switching clothes was Joan’s idea.)
It looks like he goes inside and gets teleported back outside, so he looks around sort of confused and tries again.
It’s finished! And I’ve died and gone to heaven! <3
Hey tumblr. I’ve had this image in my head for a while now, so did a few scribbles, and made a stencil. Ta-dah! I think I’m happy with it… Have some Reichenbach feels.
This is just so perfect I couldn’t resist blogging this again
One day John refused to get into the car. Mycroft came to fetch him.
John Watson & Leonard McCoy….and company.
They would commiserate well in this sense, I think. Though on fundamental doctor levels I don’t think they would mesh, lol.
STILL, I will draw all the Army/Fleet Doctors ALL THE DAYS/NIGHT/DAY.
After a while, when all attempts at gaining any attention have failed, John looks at Dr McCoy. “Cuppa?” he says.
“Cuppa what?” says McCoy.
“Well, tea,” says John, “but under the circumstances, there’s a pub down a ways.”
“First sensible person I’ve met,” mourns McCoy, as they leave Sherlock and the pointy-eared man staring each other down coldly, “and it’s god knows how many years in the past.”
Oh my god. I love you.
Can I give you things? My first born? Kittens? ANYTHING?
THIS IS REAL IN MY BRAIN
HEAD CANNON ACCEPTED